First Year
by Latte-The-Cat
Summary: In an alternate Oz, magic is both widely studied and accepted. Elphaba Thropp and her sister come to Hogwarts University of Witchcraft and Wizardry not knowing what to expect, and certainly not knowing how the coming year will change their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: in this, Hogwarts is a university, and the first-year characters are about seventeen or eighteen, not eleven, and would have grown up going to schools that studied a little bit of magic, except of course the Muggle-borns.**

**Disclaimer: Chisterie ate it. If you want it, go ask him. However, it did go something like "I am not JK Rowling, nor am I anyone owning rights to Wicked, as much as I wish I was. Don't own, don't own, don't own. Sorry."**

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_Elphaba_

Nessa sobbed openly and held my hand as Father led us towards the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten. Just ahead of us, a red-haired boy and his mother followed a short black-haired boy through to the other side of the ticket barrier. Nessa let out an unusually loud sob, and I knelt beside her wheelchair- she's can't walk, and has never even stood up on her own- and rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb.

"Nessie, hush. It's okay, no-one's going to tease you about being in your chair, it's fine, they'll all love you; you know they will," I said.

"It's not that I'm worried about," She sniffed, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and continued; "I'm worried that I won't be any good. You will. That much is obvious, Elphie. You have talent, and you'll be really good, we both know that. But I'll be rubbish!" she burst into tears again.

"Nessie! Oh, Nessie, Nessie, Nessie… it isn't what talent you have, it's how much you learn and how you apply it!" She wasn't convinced, so I employed one of her favourite phrases; "Totally, Nessie. You'll be great."

Nessa nodded tearfully, whispered "Totally. I'll be totally great. Totally, totally great," and allowed Father to push her through the barrier.

In the five-or-so years since Nessarose had learned the meaning of the word 'totally' in what she liked to call 'modern context', I had become rather sick of it.

I turned, took one long, last look at the Muggle world and stepped through the barrier onto platform 9 ¾.

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	2. The Hogwarts Express, and its lunchcart

**Hi! Thankyou for taking up some of your valueable time to read this story!**

**Okay, so... this chapter (and hopefully the ones coming after it, if she can stand that much of my writing) was edited by my amazing friend **twilighterjf4eva**, who was also my first reviewer! Thankyou, twilighter!**

**Sorry this chapter's such a shorty-shorty-McShort-shorts chapter!**

**~Latte**

**Disclaimer: Stop. Think. Really, if any of us owned Wicked, or Harry Potter, would we be using this site to write and read fanfictions about it? Really?**

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**Nessa looked at me over the top of her chocolate frog card (Merlin, _again_) and smiled.

Her chair had been strapped to the seat by the sooty-faced wizard driving the train, and she was feeling better after two fourth-year girls had helped her with her luggage and told her how pretty she was. Of course, I wasn't there; or else they might have run away in shock.

You see, I might be pure-blood _and_ practically nobility (I'm the eldest daughter of the Governor of Munchkinland), but I'm the furthermost thing from the height of the social circles. My sister is pretty, popular and everyone loves her, despite the fact that she can't walk and has been in a wheelchair since she was four years old.

Most people think there couldn't be much worse for a social life than being crippled. They are _so_ wrong there.

I was born green

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	3. Oh My Oz, Is That A Vegetable?

**Hi Everybody! Thankyou so much to all the amazified people who reviewed!**

**So… Here's chapter three, and we're FINALLY getting a look into G(a)linda's mind!**

**Hope you enjoy, and hey- at least it's longer than the last one. (which apparently was shorter than the Author's Note)**

**Disclaimer: the characters: not mine. The settings: not mine. Many of the events: based on something that's not mine. So I guess you could say that all I own is my twisted brain and of course this story.**

**Bye now!**

**~Latte**

**Chapter 3: Is That A Vegetable?**

_Galinda_

I walked down the hallway, trying to remember which compartment I had left Pfanee and Shenshen in when I went to the… uh, bathroom. I was just passing through the third carriage from the rear when I saw something to make my eyes water and my sides ache with stifled giggles- in one compartment there was a girl in a wheelchair talking to a girl with skin _as green as a vegetable_! She was really, truly and actually green!

I sprinted down the hallway, suddenly remembering which compartment I had been in- just one compartment down from the green girl. I wrenched open the door and barely managed to gasp out "you… have… _got_… to… see… this!" and they stumbled out the door and stood, gawping, at the green girl and her companion.

The girl in the chair looked up just then, and tugged lightly on the green girl's sleeve. Lettuce Girl looked up, and yes, they must be sisters- they had the same eye shape, the same build (skinny as a rake and close to entirely flat-chested), and even- _DAMN!_ I hated to admit it, even to myself, but despite the, well- green; she had the exact same face as the girl in the chair; pretty, just… green. Although, now I looked closer, the girl in the wheelchair must have been a bit younger, she just looked… less mature than the green thing. Like she was less… well; green would be the obvious thing, but really she looked less… sure of herself, somehow. Like she couldn't quite be sure if she was dreaming or awake. Hah, she was probably a Muggle-born, not yet sure if Hogwarts and Oz were real. How quaint, the innocence of the ignorant. And how typical; playing helpless and clueless, no doubt hoping some gorgeous boy (or girl) would come and explain anything- and everything- she wanted to know about magic and Oz.

At that moment, Lettuce Girl stuck out her tongue (not green, just the perfectly normal colour), and when we didn't go away, rolled her eyes and flipped us the bird.

Shenshen nudged me in the ribs and Pfanee gave me a pointed look, indicating to me that they were thinking exactly what I was- we'd better leave.

We stumbled, giggling, back to our compartment and slammed the door closed behind us.

"Did… you… _see_... her… skin!" Shenshen gasped, her whole body heaving with unrestrained mirth.

"How… can... she… show… her… _face_?" Pfanee squealed, leaning on the doorframe to keep from collapsing on the floor from laughing.

Somehow, I felt sorry for the poor green thing. But not enough to stop me from laughing at those less fortunate than me… like her!

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	4. Boats, Munchkins and Sorting Ceremonies

**Hi everybody!**

**I'm so sorry I didn't/couldn't update sooner- I've just been through a seriously hectic exam period, and haven't had the time between assignments and revision to look at this AT ALL.**

**Thank you so much to everybody who reviewed! So, as promised: FINALLY, it's a longer chapter! Thank Oz I finally finished it!**

**I would like to make special mention of my amazing friend and editor Twilighterjf4eva, without whom I would never be able to get this up here! Thankyou so much for helping me with this!**

**So… it's finally up, so enjoy, and oh, yeah; I don't own Wicked or Harry Potter. Chances are, neither do you.**

**Bye for now,**

**~Latte**

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_Elphaba_

A long train ride, one book and oh, about fifteen or twenty chocolate frogs later, an enormous man (presumably half-giant) escorted us from the _Hogwarts _Express to a fleet of small wooden boats, which were to be our transport across Great Lake - and up to the school.

Nessie had a fair bit of trouble climbing into our boat, what with her chair being too heavy for me to lift with her in it, but in the end a nice Munchkin boy, Boq, lifted Nessa out of the chair while I lifted Nessa's wheelchair easily and placed it in the boat behind her.

One more thing- it may sound mad, but I'd swear I saw Nessa _blushing_ when Boq placed her gently down in the boat and smiled at her.

The boats slipped smoothly across the glassy lake and sailed into a hole in the cliff below the school, the former being cleverly hidden by a curtain of ivy. We clambered out of the wooden boats onto a pebbly beach under the school (Boq helped Nessa again, and now I'm sure I saw her blush, although I don't think Boq noticed). A quick look around and I decided that there must be about eighty or ninety of us first years, maybe more. Some girls I recognised from the school I went to back home, in Munchkinland- the _Munchkinland School for Privileged Girls_- where the daughters of high-up officers' daughters and Noble Ladies went for their education. I hoped they didn't see Nessarose and me; I didn't want them to give Nessie a hard time. Or me, for that matter.

At that moment, a tall witch in elaborate midnight blue robes walked through a door I hadn't noticed up until now, and started reading a list of names from a long roll of parchment. The assembled first-years quickly caught on, and put their hand in the air and said _"Here!"_

I zoned out, listening for my name but not paying attention to the names being called. Here and there was a name I recognised from the _Munchkinland School_, but far from smiling or greeting my former classmates, I frowned and ducked my head, hoping nobody recognised me.

"Potter, Harry?" An underfed, dark haired boy answered, and simultaneously there was an outbreak of whispering amongst the soon-to-be students, especially from the blonde girl and her companions from the train.

"Scott, Pfanee?" One of the (still heavily giggling) girls who had gawked at Nessa and I answered.

"Thropp, Elphaba?" the tall witch asked.

"Here," I answered, crouching lower in the hope that no-one was looking around for me.

"Thropp, Nessarose?" The tall witch asked, and at this point people started to whisper again, creating almost as much chattering noise as for the famous Harry Potter.

"Here," Nessa replied, cool as a cucumber despite the attention, or merely oblivious to the people whispering about her.

"Tiggular, Fiyero?" No response.

"Tiggular, Fiyero?" the witch repeated, slightly louder. "Fiyero Tiggular, are you present?"

Still no response and the tall witch moved on, making a mark against his name with a long quill.

"Upland, Glinda?"

"It's GA-linda, with a 'Ga'." The blonde girl from the train bounced around on the balls of her feet, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of Famous Harry Potter, or the apparently absent Tiggular boy.

"Weasley, Ronald?" Madam Tall Witch asked, rolling up her parchment when a hand went up, oh, about five or six feet to my right, a tall blonde boy gave a scornful snort.

"What's your problem? D'you think my name is funny?" Asked a gangly, red-haired boy, whom I decided must be Ronald.

"Nothing…" the blonde boy said, "it's just… I would have thought the Ministry would have taken away your family's licence to breed by now… but evidently not." He smirked, and turned his back on the –now furiously blushing- boy.

With all the students accounted for (except the absent Tiggular boy), the tall witch introduced herself as Deputy Headmistress Madam Morrible, and led us into the Great Hall. I barely noted the gasps of surprise at the hundreds of ghosts floating above the tables; I was looking around, trying to take in every detail of the magnificent room. I looked up, at the magicked roof, spotting constellation after constellation, and _wow_- was that a meteorite shooting over the staff table?

Something pulled me from my staring- the slight, wavy-haired girl standing next to me, who was saying, "It's not really the sky; it's just magicked to mimic the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts; a History_," to anybody and everybody who would listen. I smiled, remembering how Nessa had said that I would be the only one to actually read her school textbooks cover to cover before first term even began- apparently she was wrong.

Madam Morrible lined us up in alphabetical order down the central aisle and the other students finally got a good look at us. The general student body wasted no time in critiquing us, chatting loudly together; squealing with delight and excitement when they saw Harry Potter, which changed to looks and whispers of pity when they saw Nessarose in her chair, which changed again when they saw me- to squeals of terror, shouts of laughter and cruel whispers.

It hurt, but like I expected anything else.

Morrible walked to the side of the hall, coming back with a battered and patched old hat, balanced on a polished wooden stool. She called the first name of the roll, and a frightened boy named "Aden, Michael" walked forward, put the hat on his head, and sat for nearly a minute, while the hat muttered to itself.

Then: "RAVENCLAW!" The hat yelled out the house for all the students to hear, the boy took off the hat and ran to join his cheering new housemates.

The sorting continued in this way for some time, the pattern only broken when "Longbottom, Neville" forgot to take the hat off when he ran to join Gryffindor, and had to jog back, blushing like a radish.

There was a colossal and collective indrawn breath as "Potter, Harry" walked up and sat on the stool. For nearly five minutes he appeared to have a conversation with the hat, until it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and Harry went to join Neville and the other Gryffindors, including the wavy-haired girl, Hermione, the one who had whispered to her companions about the magicked ceiling.

At long last I was called, and out of the corner of my eye I saw people whispering, and one or two waifish girls faint out of shock. Ha! They'll get used to having a green girl around.

I sat on the stool, pulled the hat onto my head and waited…

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**How do you think it was? Good? Bad? Indifferent?  
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See you next time!  
~Latte**


	5. Hats, Houses and a Prince

***chapter 4- **_**the sorting**_*****

**Hi Guys!**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! So, as promised: FINALLY, it's a longer chapter! Thank Oz I finally finished it!**

**I would like to make special mention of my amazing friend and editor Twilighterjf4eva! Thank you so much for helping me with this!**

**Okay, that's about it.**

**Wait, almost forgot the disclaimer:**

"**Don't own, don't own, don't own. You happy now?"**

**Bye now!**

**~Latte**

Unlike the other First Years, the hat didn't cover my eyes. Not because of the size of my head, but something else- I felt the hat stop itself from sliding down my forehead, wether to stop me from looking any worse or to open me to more ridicule, I don't know. I could hardly hear, but I _did_ hear a muffled shout from an older student, "she looks like a Storybook Witch!" and, "Ten galleons on Slytherin," from another.

Well, thanks; because I _really_ wanted to be compared to a warty old crone, I _don't_ think. I opened my eyes and glared at them, each one staring at me in a mixture of fear and disgust for my skin colour. Another girl fainted.

Suddenly, a voice in my ear hissed, "_Hmm…__** where**_ _do I put __**you,**__ I wonder… not Slytherin, no, definitely not Slytherin. That boy __**will**__ be disappointed… maybe Ravenclaw… no, there's more in you than just smarts and wisdom… Hufflepuff would be a waste of your talent…'_

'Not Gryffindor!' I thought desperately, 'please not Gryffindor- I'm not strong, or brave, or even especially loyal, except to Nessarose…'

'_Ah, but you're wrong there… really you could be in any of those houses… you're cunning and resourceful, like Slytherin, you value fair play, like Hufflepuff, you're incredibly bright, like Rowena Ravenclaw… she had the idea to create me, you know… and you have a fiery inner spirit, perfect for Gryffindor… so where do I put you…_

'Wherever you think is best,' I thought, and gulped; what if I _was_ in Slytherin? It was certainly what the fiercely whispering crowd expected from me, but what would they do if it became reality?

_Well then… if you're__** so**__ sure… I think…_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I yanked the hat off, dropped it on the seat, and ran over to join the Gryffindors. I distinctly heard one boy yell 'DAMN!', but I just laughed, and sat down on the first bit of open bench-space I could find; between a tall redhead boy, who was deep in conversation with an identical boy across the table from him, and Hermione, who looked lonely but immediately started asking me what my favourite books were. She was really surprised that I, a 'pure-blood'-supposedly, you can't ever really tell now- had read so many Muggle books, and that we had so many books in common.

Nessarose was called, and I hushed Hermione and waited anxiously while Nessa wheeled herself up to the platform, rejected Morrible's offer to put the hat on for her and waited. A hideous thought struck me; she had to be in Gryffindor, or how would I look after her?

"Is she your sister?" Hermione asked, pulling me out of my day-mare regarding what might happen if I wasn't around to look after Nessa.

"Yes, my little sister." The hat seemed to be taking it's time with Nessa, just as it seemed to have done with me, and it did exactly what it seemed to have done with me- it was sitting, perfectly balanced, on the crown of her head- except Nessie's eyes were squeezed tightly closed.

Then I realised- Hermione didn't seem to be bothered by my skin.

"Um… Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Doesn't it bother you? My skin, I mean?" She smiled, briefly showing slightly crooked teeth.

"No, not really. I kind of like it and I never had many friends at school because of my bad teeth and good marks; everyone called me a suck-up and a freak. You must have had a far worse time than me, but I don't see any reason to join the majority in their campaign against you."

"Thanks. I was a bit like you, I guess. Not the prettiest little thing and always getting good marks. They used to claim that I was the Devil's spawn, or that I dyed my skin to get attention."

"I was top of my year," said Hermione.

"So was I," I said, smiling.

The Hat seemed to be in some sort of telepathic debate with Nessa, who looked as if she was explaining something to it. Come on, Nessa, come on! Please be in Gryffindor!

"It's so strange, how the hat wouldn't go down over your eyes, or hers, either. I wonder what the hat's saying to her…"

"Probably what it said to me; that it couldn't decide where to put her. I was going to be in Ravenclaw for a while there, actually."

"So was I, but then it said that I would do better in Gryffindor, and so here I am."

At that moment, the Hat opened its mouth and shouted; "Ravenclaw!"

No! Oh Oz, no, no, _no!_ She can't be in Ravenclaw, she just can't! How will I look after her? How will she cope? How will _I_ cope?

Oh no…

Just then, a tall, handsome boy burst through the door to the hall, still in full Muggle clothes… or should I say; a strange outfit that was Muggle, but on the verge of being a party costume.

He was wearing a shiny red waistcoat over a loose white shirt, with tight white pants tucked into black knee-high boots. He strutted down the aisle, taking his place in line just in time for his name to be called as Nessie sat- well, parked really- at the Ravenclaw table. Hermione and I rolled our eyes at each other, mimicking the boy's expression as he pranced up to the stool, pulled the hat over his eyes and waited. He took a far shorter time than Nessa or I, barely sitting there for a few seconds before the hat shouted 'GRYFFINDOR' and he came and sat down, girls immediately crowding around him.

The remaining girls and boys were sorted into their houses, including the Weasley boy (who went to Gryffindor) and the blonde girl from the train (Galinda, whom the hat didn't want to cover the eyes of either, also a new Gryffindor), and the feast began.

**OOOH, THE BIG REVEAL! ELPHABA IS IN GRYFFINDOR! HOW WILL IT ALL WORK OUT?  
Okay, so now to my usual post-chapter message:  
How did it go? Was it great or truly awful! Either way, I would love to hear your feedback!  
Until next time,  
~Latte**


	6. Conflicts and Common Rooms

**Hello! I'm back!**

**Oh, Oz, it's been- what? Four months now? Five?**

**I am so sorry I haven't updated in months, and, as if matters weren't bad enough, I don't even have a reasonable excuse, I just haven't written anything in four months.**

**Anyway, this chapter was edited (as always) by my lovely and amazing friend Jenny, without whom this story would be a long-forgotten oneshot lurking at the back of the crossover archives.**

**My apologies once again,**

**~Latte**

**PS- Disclaimer: All I own is my twisted mind and the creations it cooks up.**

The feast was called to an end, and we were dismissed.

I took this as my chance- Madame Morrible was talking to Nessarose, no doubt making arrangements as to how exactly she was going to get up and down the castle's many staircases. I walked over and plonked myself unceremoniously down on the end of the bench next to Nessa, who nodded to Morrible and started to extricate herself from the bench. It was now or never.

"Madam Morrible...?" 

"Yes, dearie?"

"I think I might have been put in the wrong house."

"Ah… yes, lots of people say that… but, my dear, do we have any reason to change which house you're in?"

"Well… yes. I think we do. You see, Nessa needs me. I've always looked after her, and father specifically said that I was to take care of her at Hogwarts; I don't think it even crossed his mind that I actually might not be in the same house as her! _Please_ Madam Morrible, you've got to let me change houses! I have to take care of my sister!"

Even _I_ could hear my voice rising in pitch, ending in a high, squeaky tone, somewhat like the voices of the chipmunks in those Muggle movies.

"Wow." An unexpected voice behind me made me turn- it was the blonde girl… No, _Galinda_, who spoke, talking loudly to her two friends; Shenshen and Pfanee. "I would never have thought she had _that_ in her." Then, in a falsely happy-for-you way, she glided over to me, patted me on the shoulder, and said, "Well done, darling. You just moved up a rank; coherent speech, I never would have thought."

Shock rooted me to the spot; I stood stock still, and by the time I turned around to snap my reply at her - or give her a knuckle sandwich - she was back with her friends, giggling.

As I watched, she pulled a tiny pink bottle of hand sanitiser out of her ludicrously small handbag, and started cleaning her hands, finger by finger. Then, putting the small bottle away, she pulled out a mirror and re-applied her lipstick, pausing only to look up at me and say "Aww…" but not in an 'Aww, poor dear, I hope you feel better soon' way nor an 'Aww, you're so cute' way, but in a manner that clearly said, 'Aww… you're so ugly, and look at me - I'm beautiful'. Evil witch.

Anyhow, Morrible tapped me on the shoulder, bringing me back to the land of the living, and the look on her face told me what she'd decided well before she opened her mouth.

"Your father made his, ah, _concern_ for your sister's wellbeing quite apparent when he visited the school, but he never mentioned you. I have arranged for some of the other Ravenclaw girls to look after you sister, she'll be fine, I promise…"

"But Madam, you don't understand, I-" I began, but Morrible cut me off.

"Yes, I do. You have clearly sheltered you sister too much, Miss Elphaba! In fact, I am _glad_ that you are not in the same house! It will give _both _of you the opportunity to grow, learn and work on your own, without the help and influence of the other! Now if you have nothing _important_ to say, I suggest you go to bed!"With a swish of her glittering arm she dismissed us all, and we left, considering it prudent to do so before we all got detentions.

We, meaning the giggling girls, Hermione, and myself, followed the last Gryffindor stragglers up the many staircases, chatting amongst ourselves. I learned that Hermione's parents were dentists, and that she would have gone to the local Comprehensive High School if she hadn't got her Hogwarts letter. To our disgust, and to Galinda, Pfanee and Shenshen's delight, we remembered that Fiyero Tiggular -"oh my Oz, he's that Winkie prince, who's reputation is just so… _scandalicious!"_- had also been sorted into Gryffindor, and that he was walking just in front of us. Galinda lost no time in gliding up to him tapping him on the shoulder.

"Hi. I'm _Ga_linda." As much as I hated her, I had to admire her aptitude for flirting: the slight emphasis on the 'ga'; the way she stood with a slight lean to the right, allowing the golden light that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves to catch and highlight her hair; even how she faced him, on a slight angle, gazing adoringly up at his face (for she was truly quite short, around four-foot-eleven)…Ha! As if I would _ever_ have the opportunity to flirt like that! The poor boy would probably run away screaming! But still… it seemed to work for her… it matched her personality well, or some such thing… I wonder how Nessarose is doing… I hope she's alright… I hope the other Ravenclaws are being kind to her… that Munchkin boy, Boq, was sorted into Ravenclaw… Nessa seemed to like him… I wonder if She's talking to him now…

**Okay, how did I go? Better? Worse? Same as usual? Please review and tell me, I would love to hear your feedback!**

**~Latte**


	7. Of Love and Lodgings

**Hello!**

**I'm back! (hopefully for an extended stay- Rowing is over and school is back under control, so –fingers crossed- I will be able to update more frequently.)**

**As always, oodles of thanks to everyone who reviewed! As exams are over (I missed a few because I was sick in exam week and had to catch up on them for the past few days) I will be replying directly to reviews!**

**Extra special mention to my amazifying friend and editor: Jen, who was willing to pick up the proverbial baton after nearly five months, even though we hadn't had contact in all that time. THANKYOU SO MUCH JEN!**

**Anyway, I can't be bothered to make up an interesting disclaimer, but then again, I suppose we all understand by now that I wouldn't be writing this if I owned Wicked or Harry Potter.**

**~Latte**

**(And also the _real_ Latte, who is my fat Burmese cat who sat on my feet for the whole five hours I took to finally be satisfied with this chapter.)**

_Galinda_

Pfanee, Shenshen, Fiyero and I rounded the corner, babbling on about whatever thought graced our heads, when - BAM! - we got our first glimpse of our common room through the open portrait hole. Jostled forwards by the girls behind us but trapped by a gangly group of no-way-ever-a-boyfriend-prospect-type boys (including, of all things, a fourth-year boy in a skirt and a black bob-wig!), Fiyero and I shuffled towards the opening in the wall at a snail's pace, climbed through the hole, and into the brilliantly lit common room beyond.

And what a room!  
Maybe fifty metres long by thirty metres wide, decorated in gleaming gold and rich reds. Portraits (moving, of course) lined the walls, beaming and waving at the students.

There were couches, beanbags and armchairs all in shades of red, and the thick, soft carpet was a warm, soft gold. A tall, skinny boy with ginger hair was giving us directions to our dorms- girls upstairs and down on the right, boys upstairs and down on the left- and he 'advised' us to go straight to bed, as lessons would start first thing the following morning. I turned and looked up at Fiyero, meaning to say goodnight, but he bent down (drat being so Oz-damned short) and kissed me bang on the lips, before turning and walking away and up the stairs to the boy's dormitories, calling, "goodnight, _Ga_linda" over his shoulder.

I think I need to lie down.

_Elphaba_

Hermione and I took the downwards set of stairs first, only to find that those dorms were already occupied. We turned and climbed up the stairs, but the first, second, third and fourth dorms were also taken, and we were starting to wonder if we would have to sleep on the couches in the common room.

The very topmost dorm, however, gave us some success. Three other first-year girls were already there, but there were two spare beds, and they were happy to let Hermione share. She stuck her head back out the door to tell this to me, for I had been talking to some fifth-year girls who had knew me from the _Munchkinland School for Privileged Girls_, which I had attended during my childhood. When the first-years in the – my – new dorm saw me, they squealed, but quickly decided that, as there were no other beds available, I would have to live in their dorm.

I think Galinda would have protested, but she was too busy writing in a hideously pink and disgustingly fluffy journal to notice what was going on around her.

"'_The amazifying and fantabulous journal of Galinda Upland'"_ Hermione read, "What's up with her?"

"Oh, she just got off with the Winkie prince, and apparently he kissed her goodnight." Shenshen sniffed, clearly a case of sour grapes.

As if in response to Shenshen's words, Galinda rolled over, hugged her diary to her chest and sighed in contentment.

We unpacked, Galinda too deep in her romantic daze to notice Hermione and I clamber into our new beds. Hermione waved her wand vaguely, and the lights dimmed. I rolled over, buried myself in the soft, fluffy blankets and fell asleep.

**So- my first multiple-point-of-view chapter. How was it? (Yes, that's right, I'm fishing for reviews. You know what to do.)  
Anyway, Latte and I thank you for taking the time to read this, and ask that you wait patiently if I don't update quickly.  
Ta-ta for now,  
~Latte (and Latte)**


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